


Trespasser: Alone

by OnaDacora



Series: Halla and the Serpent: Lavellan and Dorian Friendship [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, F/M, Friendship, M/M, death mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-14
Updated: 2015-09-14
Packaged: 2018-04-20 19:48:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4800068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnaDacora/pseuds/OnaDacora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post Trespasser DLC</p><p>Okay, but what about a Lavellan that romanced Solas, and her best friend Dorian who romanced an Iron Bull whose Chargers were sacrificed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trespasser: Alone

It was sometime after midnight when Dorian came to her room. He had a bottle of wine in his hand, already open and half-empty. His eyes were red and his hair was in disarray, and he didn’t even bother to knock when he pushed her door open.

She was on the floor, one leg tucked under her, the other bent to the side, ruins of furniture surrounding her. Her remaining hand was curled and pressed to her lips, her body swaying slightly from side to side. Pale hair hung over her face, parting as she tilted her head up to acknowledge the sound of feet on the carpet.

Their eyes met, both so hollow with grief and pain.

She realized, then, that she had been so consumed by what had happened with Solas –how could he leave her  _again_? how could he think what he was doing was right?– that she had somehow let it slip her mind that they had just killed her friend. They had killed the man Dorian loved.

A new wave of pain crashed over her, and though she was certain she had shed every tear left inside of her, a sob broke loose. “Dorian,” she said, her vision blurred as she looked up at him. She reached out and took hold of the leg of his trousers. “ _Ir abelas_.” She tried to take a steadying breath, but she shuddered and it came out as another gut-wrenching sob. “I am so sorry.”

Slowly, he set the bottle of wine down on the floor, falling to his knees in front of her. “Why did they lie to us?” he asked weakly, his voice hoarse from crying just as hers was.

Dorian let her wrap her arm around his neck, pulling her to him as if to comfort him even as she cried. He buried his face in her shoulder as his back shuddered with his own pain. She could feel his tears soak through her shirt, and his hug was so fierce it was almost painful.

“I wish there was something I could have done,” she said, tears still flooding her vision but the spasm in her chest had stopped and she could breathe again.

“We knew what he was from the start,” he said, his voice cracking. “I let him trick me into thinking…” a pained sound escaped him, and his fingers curled and took hold of her shirt. “…Into thinking that he  _loved_  me.”

He smelled like wine and the fine oil he always wore, and under that a hint of ozone from all the spells that had been cast that day. It was comforting and familiar, and for the moment at least she felt her grief ebb slightly. His grip on her relaxed and some of the tension left his shoulders. He was suddenly a bit heavier in her grasp, but they held each other up.

“I thought I was done crying,” she admitted softly, her chin resting on his shoulder.

“That makes two of us,” he said, pulling away from her with a weary sigh.

He rubbed absently at his face as they looked at each other. His lips twitched slightly. “You look terrible. I’m certain I do as well. Quite the pair we make.” Dorian’s eyes slowly took in the room for the first time. “I’m not exactly a fan of Orlesian decor, but I can’t say this is much of an improvement.”

She didn’t answer, instead taking hold of the wine he had brought and swallowing a mouthful. Not even bothering to taste it, she took a second.

“It’s terrible,” Dorian said, taking the bottle from her.

“The wine?”

“Yes, though I suppose it could also apply to ‘everything’.”

She looked down at what remained of her left arm, a constant reminder of Solas. “Is it wrong that I still love him?”

Dorian raised the bottle to his mouth before answering. “No. That’s not the answer everyone will give you, but for what it’s worth,  _no_. I don’t think you’re wrong.”

“For what it’s worth,” she echoed back to him, “I don’t think you were wrong either.”

“We’re a pair of fools.”

“…Dorian?”

He had been staring off into space, but he focused his gaze back upon her. “Lavellan,” he answered softly.

She opened her mouth to speak, and looked away as her eyes somehow swam with more tears. Swallowing to try and compose herself, she bit her lip as she started trembling. “Please don’t leave me, too.”

Tears rolled silently down her face as she shook, turning her eyes to the floor. It had been hard to hear he’d be going back to Tevinter for good, but now the thought of him leaving again was suddenly unbearable.

“How cruel of you, striking a man while he’s already down,” he said, shaking his head weakly. His face twisted with pain. “I have to go.”

“Then take me with you. Let me help you. My  _vallaslin_  is gone, I can blend in with the other elves–”

“All right.”

“–I’ll be care– what?” Her face shot up to look at him, startled.

“I was…  _hoping_  your offer to help still stood. I suddenly find myself in need of my dearest friend. And I think she might need me as well.”


End file.
